Substitution
by HopeTheCrazyCat
Summary: "They both wanted something that they couldn't have." Morty is seeing someone, but that someone is merely a substitute for what he really wants. Likewise, Morty is only a substitution for that person. Warnings: Rick/Morty, unhealthy relationship/coping, smut, very light body hair kink (I have no explanation for where this one came from)


AN: This is actually a really old piece that I had still laying around. I was experimenting a little with this one, not just plot wise, but also writing wise, so please know that this is intentional.

Warnings: Rick/Morty, unhealthy relationship, smut, very light body hair kink (I have no explanation for where this one came from)

* * *

 **Substitution**

His mobile phone beeped and Morty looked at the display, reading the text message that he had just received from a (by now) well-known number:

"You ready?"

He typed in a quick reply.  
A few seconds passed, then a portal suddenly opened up in his room. Morty didn't wait long and just stepped through it. It wasn't anything new or unusual. By now, this had become a routine. Still, he could only hope each time again that no one would find out.

As he exited the green swirl on the other end, he was instantly greeted by the sight of Rick. Not _his_ Rick though, mind you.  
This was a Rick that he had met a while back. It's been a few weeks since they actually started to meet like this regularly.  
This Rick wasn't really much like his Rick.

He still looked pretty much like any other "standard" Rick, but instead of an off-white lab coat and blue sweater, this one preferred to wear a simple baby-blue t-shirt with a light-grey button-up shirt over it, which was most of the time halfway or even completely unbuttoned as it was right now.  
He also wore light-blue jeans, green socks, grey sneakers – not the same attire that his Rick preferred, but Morty had started to think that maybe it was better this way.  
Maybe it was for the better that he really didn't look exactly like his Rick.

One more thing that separated this version of his grandfather from his actual grandfather – at least appearance wise – was a patch of facial hair above his chin.  
It gave him a sort of charm, making him look… well, handsome as far as Ricks could be called handsome and Morty had wondered for a moment how his Rick would look like with a little soul patch or goatee, but figured that it wouldn't suite him as much. The clean shaved-look suited him better somehow.

Morty took notice that the spittle on Rick's lower lip was absent yet he was able to smell the alcohol on his breath from where he stood.  
He figured that Rick had tried to drink at least a little less for him, but wouldn't be able to cut it out completely. Morty didn't expect him to and he also didn't mind.  
It was something that he was familiar with, something that reminded him of his own Rick. It was okay and something he wouldn't want to be absent.

"Hey." Rick greeted him simply.

"Hi." Morty greeted simply back.

There usually wasn't much communication going on between the two. At least not much verbally. And the little that was spoken between them was usually not much on the informative side.  
Even if they had met for a few weeks, Morty basically still knew nothing about this man.

What he did know was that the place he was at right now was Rick's apartment, which was located on earth. He wasn't living with his family like Morty's Rick, but he lived in the same town. Close enough to stay in range to be cloaked by his own Morty's brainwaves, Morty had figured.  
He had never visited his Beth and the only times he had actually seen his Morty had been when they crossed each other on the streets, the boy being completely unaware that this stranger was actually his grandfather. Though, he could also always see him from his window when the boy was on his way to or back from school.  
This Rick wanted to keep things that way and Morty didn't ask him for the reason.  
Just like this Rick didn't ask Morty for his reasons.

"You sure you wanna do this?" Rick asked.

Morty nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."

"Okay." Rick only replied and led them from the parlor that was cluttered with half-finished projects towards the small bedroom.

It wasn't the first time that he had seen it. It wasn't the first time that he had been here.  
They had been spending some time together. A few handjobs and a few blowjobs, but they hadn't went further than that… until now.

Some might probably wonder how this came to be, but it wasn't a very spectacular story.  
They had met at the Citadel of Ricks as Morty had waited for his Rick to finish whatever business he was doing there. They happened to be getting into a small conversation with each other about nothing and then hung out a little over some greasy fast food. His Rick could have cared less about it.  
Somehow, even though they never really talked much, one of their topics strayed in a direction that then ended in this—

 _"So, you one of those Mortys, who're into fucking Ricks?"_

—and at first Morty had been really embarrassed about it, feeling awkward—

 _"W-what? What do you want from me? Do you want me to give you a blowjob or something?"_

 _"Yeah."_

—which lasted until he gave Rick a blowjob – which was a first for Morty.

From then on, it became almost a painfully normal thing.

"Does your Rick know?" the older asked as he sat down on his bed.

Silence answered him and he added, "Don't wanna pry. Just curious."

"No." Morty simply answered.

It wasn't just a question of if his Rick knew that he was meeting with this Rick. It also solely wasn't a question of if he knew what Morty was up to in his free time. But the answer was all the same.

"You really sure you wanna do this? I mean, I know this is your first time. We can stop whenever. You just gotta tell me." Rick offered.

"No. I want this."

Maybe not exactly _this_. Maybe not exactly _like_ this. But it was the closest… it was _okay_.

"'Kay. C'mere."

Morty crawled on the bed next to Rick. He was nervous, unsure what exactly to do.

"Just relax. I'm gonna guide you through this. Gonna take good care of you, 'kay?"

Morty released a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. He tried to relax his muscles, giving himself over to the other's guidance as he had done before.  
As Rick leaned over and pressed his thin, chapped lips to his own, Morty finally relaxed at the familiarity.  
The taste was familiar. The feeling of a tongue entwining with his own was familiar. The lips that massaged against his were familiar.

They usually didn't kiss all that much, but Morty liked it whenever they did.  
His hand wandered almost reflexively towards Rick's face, finding its place on his cheek before it wandered and his fingers brushed softly through the little patch of hair beneath Rick's lower lip.  
This was also a familiarity that he wouldn't want to miss and yet it was a constant reminder of _who_ he was with.

As they kissed, Rick's hands also didn't stay idle. They slipped underneath the plain yellow t-shirt, stroking over the soft skin of a stomach and moving higher to seek out pink and already perking nipples.

There wasn't really much foreplay as their lips eventually parted again and hands worked to get them out of their clothes.  
Morty tried not to feel self-conscious as he was completely bared. By now, it was kind of pointless anyway.  
Instead, he tried to shift his focus on admiring Rick's body.

The skin was ashen and saggy and wrinkled in a few places, but still stretched over a lean frame that hid strong muscles.  
Morty's eyes were caught on a patch of bluish-silvery curly hair on Rick's chest. This was another contrast to _his_ Rick who again preferred to shave and was practically hairless.

He didn't get to marvel at it for long though as Rick reached over to the small bedside table and rummaged around in the drawer.  
His hand emerged with a simple tube. Lube. Obviously, Morty told himself mentally.  
Without any instructions, he got on his hands and knees.  
He had seen enough porn videos to know how this went.

Rick didn't say anything, just sat behind him and opened the tube, which was accompanied with a click.  
Morty tried to calm his fluttering nerves as he listened to the squelching sounds of Rick slicking up his fingers.  
He couldn't contain his gasp though as one slippery digit suddenly touched his entrance and he dug his fingers tightly into the bedsheet.

"Shh. Relax." Rick said as the lone finger traced up and down the crack of his butt.

Morty tried to calm his breath and forced his muscles to relax as best as he could.  
It certainly helped that his older lover was giving him time and only continued gently massaging his rim without penetrating yet.  
Rick's patience eased his frizzled nerves a little and eventually he relaxed.  
Noticing Morty's tense muscles loosening up, Rick carefully eased his slick finger past the tight ring.

A rush of breath escaped Morty's lungs at the feeling of the intrusion. It burned slightly, but it was bearable. Morty wouldn't let it stop him.  
It was just one finger. This should still be easy to handle.

Rick explored Morty's insides carefully, his free hand kneading one of the boy's ass cheeks as a slight distraction since he noticed that Morty had tensed up again.  
Morty moaned a little from the additional ministration. It felt really nice.  
Not long after a second finger nudged its way inside him. A little gasp escaped the boy as he felt the digit pop inside.

As gently as before, Rick continued to stretch out the walls that had tightened around him again after the second intrusion. When Morty loosened up once more, he worked his way in slightly deeper, grinning and curling his fingers in clear search for that one special spot.  
A sudden loud moan from boy that was close to a shout, alerted him that he had found it.  
Morty's head sunk and he tried to hide his face in Rick's pillow that he had blindly grabbed, feeling self-conscious about the embarrassing sound that had just escaped his mouth. The motion made him open up more and he felt Rick's fingers slide even deeper inside, causing him to mewl.

"Yeah, you like that? You l-like Grandpa's fingers in you?"

Morty's answer was a whimper into the pillow.  
It made Rick's grin widen. That was all that he needed to hear.

He continued to tease the boy's sweet spot occasionally as he tried to open up the snug tunnel a bit more with scissoring motions.  
It wasn't long before he sunk a third finger into the tight heat.  
Morty keened and arched his back and Rick felt so delighted at that reaction.  
God, the boy really wanted him.  
He bend down and placed a few soft kisses along the boy's spine, helping Morty to relax and loose up his anal muscles again.

After plenty more gentle strokes and continuing to lavish the boy's back with affections, Rick deemed him finally prepared enough.  
He didn't spend as much time with lubing up his erection and so, soon he moved behind the boy, his tip lightly digging into the wrinkly pucker.

"Ready?"

Morty only gave a nod as answer, face still buried in the pillow.  
The elder then began to push slowly into the tight heat.  
Morty dug his finger tighter into the cushion and buried his face deeper into it, ignoring the need for air. It was certainly bigger than just three fingers, a little painful, but still nothing too bad.

Rick stilled and moved a hand to gently lift the boy's head up. "Breathe, Morty."

He really hadn't noticed how much his lungs had been burning from the lack of oxygen and filled them with gasping breaths.  
As he panted softly, his body also started to relax more, allowing the other to continue.  
Rick groaned filthily as he sunk completely into the boy with a singular thrust.

"Fuck! So tight." He muttered.

Full. Morty felt so full.  
He felt his insides clenching and unclenching around the big, hot, fleshy rod that was buried so deep.  
After some time for adjustment, Rick withdrew his length almost completely before easing back inside, the movements still slow and gentle.  
Morty mewled and moaned, feeling the pressure against his walls that were stretched with each inside motion again and again and again.  
Fingers dug harder into his hips, leaving indentations in their wake that would certainly bruise the creamy skin.

With Rick tightening his hold on the boy, he also started to set a pace, alternating back and forth from short, quick thrust that were constantly stabbing into Morty's prostate and slow, deep thrusts.  
It was driving Morty slowly crazy and to the brink of his orgasm as he emitted high-pitched moans with each thrust.  
Those sounds were accompanied by Rick's not-as-loud-as-Morty's grunts.

Apparently not entirely satisfied with this, Rick began to settle on a new rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back into him in a fast and hard thrust.  
He kept up this new and steady pace and Morty was sure that he wouldn't be able to last much longer.  
If he would have enough mind left to form a coherent thought, he would have realized that this must be what people meant when they talked about "getting your brains fucked out".

His right hand untangled from the pillow and found its way to his weeping erection, pumping it in a matching velocity to the harsh strokes that his insides received, really screaming out now at each impact that the hot velvet-covered steel made with his prostrate.  
He was so close, so close…

Just as he was about to fall apart at the seams, Rick stilled his movements.  
He drew back and slipped completely out of him.  
Morty wanted to protest, but was suddenly flipped around.  
Rick changed positions with him, laying down and pulling Morty on top of him.

"I want you to ride me." He simply explained in answer to the boy's confused look.

Morty blinked at him for a moment. Then he nodded and positioned himself above the erection, guiding the tip to his entrance, slowly sitting down on it and welcoming it back into his hot body.  
He steadied himself by placing his hands on Rick's chest and his fingers couldn't help but brush for a moment through the curls that grew there.  
It was a reminder.

He slowly lifted himself and then sank down again, trying to get back into a rhythm that he was comfortable with.  
Rick's hands were on his hips, steadying him and helping his movements.

"Move your hips a little. Like—when you're doing—like with a hula-hoop. _Yeah, just like that_." Rick groaned as Morty followed his guidance.

Morty threw his head back and moaned loudly as the hot erection touched his walls and brushed teasingly against his prostate with each circular motion.  
As expected, his movements were rather clumsy and far from perfect. However, he moved with vigor and quickly learned from his elder's still guiding hands.

"You're doing so good, baby." Rick praised him, groaning, moving his own hips up to meet his every time.

As Morty looked down at his partner again, his eyes focused on his lips.  
He felt the urge to kiss Rick, but he wasn't sure if it was okay.  
Rick wasn't initiating kisses all that much and so Morty wasn't sure if he even liked them, figuring that it was probably not the case – or maybe Morty was just really bad at it – and therefore didn't really dare to make a move. He didn't want to upset Rick. Then again, he couldn't recall that this Rick had ever been upset with him or about any of his actions.  
Unlike his own Rick, who got easily angry with him for the smallest mishap.  
No, this Rick right here had been always very encouraging, praise falling rather easily from his lips.  
Still not wanting to push it, Morty bit his lip as he fought to ignore the urge. He didn't want to risk it and mess this up.

Fatigue was slowly creeping up on the boy. He was still unaccustomed to the effort and could feel a burn in the muscles of his thighs.  
Still, he didn't want to stop yet, not when he was this close.  
He also didn't want to disappoint Rick. However, he didn't know for how much longer he could hold on and ignore the strain.  
It seemed like Rick noticed that Morty was tiring because he doubled his efforts and pounded into the boy as best as he could from beneath him.  
Both started to race towards their finish.

"M' gonna cream pie ya, baby. Gonna ruin you for your Rick. He won't want you anymore after I shot may load into you." Rick said as he kept thrusting wildly.

Morty whimpered at the words, but didn't stop him.  
He just kept moving in tandem to the other's rhythm.  
A hand that was suddenly grasping his weeping cock and pumping it quickly was his undoing.  
In thick white ribbons, his essence shot out and covered his partner's chest and stomach.  
Not a moment later did he register a loud groan from Rick and felt hot liquid shooting up inside him, painting his walls.

Both held their posture rigidly as the rush of release still flooded their senses.  
Then Morty collapsed on top of Rick's sweaty chest.  
For a while, they just laid there, catching their breath.  
However all of a sudden, sobs were wracking Morty's body.

"Hey, did I hurt you?" Rick asked him concerned as he noticed that the boy had started to cry.

"N-no. I-I-I'm sorry." He sniffed, trying to apologize for his behavior.

He didn't really know why he had started to cry now. He didn't mean to and he wanted to stop, but couldn't.  
Lanky arms wrapped around him and held his shaking form.

"S'okay." Rick told him.

He didn't say anything else, didn't try to shush him or anything.  
He just continued to hold him, stroking lightly with his thumb over the skin at the base of Morty's neck and letting the boy cry out his bottled-up emotions that broke lose all at once.

The sobs eventually died down, but they still didn't say anything.  
It wasn't an uncomfortable silence.  
After a moment longer, Morty finally sat up.  
He stood up from the bed and searched for his clothes, dressing himself again and ignoring the sticky ejaculate that was running down his legs.  
Rick continued to lay on the bed, arms crossed behind his head as he watched the boy.

"Next week okay with you again?"

Morty nodded. "Yeah. I'll text you the time."

"'Kay."

Rick fumbled for his portal gun and opened a portal for him.  
They didn't exchange any more words, not even glances.  
Morty walked through the portal and it closed behind him.  
They both knew he'd come back again. After all, they both wanted something that they couldn't have.

* * *

AN: I'm wondering if I should write a sequel to this…


End file.
